


In which Padmé proves as resourceful as ever

by skatzaa



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Farewell Sex?, Going Away Sex?, Improvised Sex Toys, Kneeling, Lekku as Erogenous Zones, Nipple Play, Object Insertion, Original Senator Character(s) - Freeform, Pre-Star Wars: Attack of the Clones, Realistic clothing logistics were handwaved during the making of this fic, Sneaking away from a fancy ball to have mostly-clothed sex on the premises, Whats Like. The Opposite of Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24707959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatzaa/pseuds/skatzaa
Summary: The reception gala always marked the end of the Senate session, after which all representatives would return to their homeworlds. After tonight, Padmé would have little reason to see the senator from Shili.She didn’t intend to waste the opportunity.
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Original Female Character
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25
Collections: The First Annual Femslash Kink Exchange 2020





	In which Padmé proves as resourceful as ever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saiditallbefore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiditallbefore/gifts).



> I find smut both fun and embarrassing to write in turn, so this was an interesting exchange for me lol. Super enjoyable tho, and I hope you all like this as much as I'm sure I'll enjoy yours.

The gala had started an hour ago, and Padmé was growing frustrated.

She slid through the clusters of Senators scattered throughout the grand hall, acknowledging those she recognized with a nod and a smile which said, quite eloquently, that she was glad to see them but unable to stop for further pleasantries. Many nodded back, telling her in kind that they would have to catch one another at a later moment in the evening. 

Three years ago, Padmé would not have believed the messages that could be conveyed with only the slightest shift of a hand or tilt of the head. On Naboo, as queen, they’d had their own silent language—but it had always been woven into their clothing and, to a lesser extent, their hair, though the Naboo did not place the same importance on it as the Alderaani did. 

Indeed, if one knew to look, Padmé’s outfit for this year’s official welcome reception for new Republic planets spoke volumes. It was, perhaps, considered old fashioned in some circles—even on Naboo—but Padmé would not soon abandon her heritage. 

A fitted gown in deepening, shimmering shades of blue to invoke the ocean, always welcoming one home. Small yellow Ainu shells cascading from the hollow of her throat to her neckline, for prosperity. Green Paonga pearls in her ears and on her fingers for hope. Her hair was divided in two sections and woven around a small curved hairpiece, nestled against the back of her head. Woven around a central pillar: strength in unity as they rallied around the Republic.

And there were also smaller, more intimate details, intended only to be seen by one’s beloved: blue and yellow ryoo blossoms stitched along her hem; embroidery on the sleeves deliberately worked backwards, left over right; a concealed hair bead that would unravel the style in a heartbeat.

Adoration, yearning, eagerness to be reunited.

There was only one person in the hall that would glean even a portion of those hidden messages, other than Chancellor Palpatine himself. And Padmé had no intentions of being close enough for him to notice. 

Her eyes scanned the hall again as she sidestepped Bail and Mon, entangled in conversation with the new representative from Cortina and looking like they deeply regretted it. If she stopped to speak with them now, she knew they would all become embroiled in the minutiae of the new bill that was gaining traction in the chamber, the one preposterous enough to propose an army as an adequate solution to the growing Separatist movement.

She didn’t have time for that tonight, though, and so she only waved regretfully when Bail raised his glass and eyebrows in invitation.

Wait—there.

Padmé took half a step to the right so the Senator from Glee Anselm was no longer blocking her line of sight, and there, half a head taller than the senators around her even before one counted the golden curve of her montrals, was Shryn Naal, Senator of the Shili and Kiros systems.

Shryn was a bit of an outsider among senators and Togruta alike, even as a third term senator. She was too young, for a Togruta, too tall and broad. Too obviously fond of her laborer roots for most senators’ tastes, and, as the first Kiros-raised Togruta elected to the Senate since the establishment of the colony, too controversial on both her homeworld and the Senate floor. 

And, as Padmé had come to realize, some disliked her for far pettier reasons: the way she kept her lekku bound back in a way that spoke of hard work and the necessity of keeping a wayward lek from becoming a distraction; the simple way she dressed, her headdress and engraved underbust torso-guard the only adornments she allowed; that her montrals were still growing into their full size. Anything and everything they could find that was wrong or different. 

Padmé paused to let her heartbeat slow, watching the way Shryn threw her head back and laughed, blue skin flushing dark; at least one of the evolutionary prey species shied away before they caught hold of their instincts. The laugh died away as Shryn dove back into her conversation with—someone. An aide, maybe? Just because this function was meant to be senators only didn’t mean it _stayed_ that way. 

Sidestepping an attempted conversational starter from an orange skinned near-human, Padmé continued forward. Not too close—no need to draw unnecessary attention to herself—but just enough that the motion would register at the edge of Shryn’s vision. 

Shryn tilted her head just enough for Padmé to know that she saw her. Padmé tapped her left wrist three times with two fingers: second exit on the left side of the hall, in three quarters of an hour.

Shryn dipped her chin, eyes still fixed on the being before her; encouragement for whatever the aide was saying, and confirmation for Padmé.

The reception gala always marked the end of the Senate session, after which all representatives would return to their homeworlds. After tonight, Padmé would have little reason to see the senator from Shili. 

She didn’t intend to waste the opportunity.

Padmé drifted towards the refreshments, laid out in sumptuous heaps along the edge of the hall. It was one way to pass the time at least. 

Three quarters of an hour later found Padmé slipping through the second exit, the sounds of hundreds of beings all crammed in together fading away. There were small groups out here as well, heads bowed close as they discussed topics better kept between allies. 

Shryn was some ways ahead of her, bound lekku swaying between her shoulder blades as she strode down the corridor, looking for all the world as though she had an appointment to keep. None of the groups dared to stop her, as none of them tried to stop Padmé: out here, in this context, it provided plausible deniability for all present. 

She followed the navy billow of Shryn’s cloak around one corner, then another, and into a small room where petitioners to a particular planetary embassy were often meant to wait. It was empty and still, though the lights were already on thanks to Shryn.

She turned to face Padmé, her blue eyes bright.

“Hello, Senator Amidala,” Shryn said, a hint of her Kiros accent lurking around her vowels. She held out a hand, and Padmé offered her own. Shryn bowed from her great height to kiss Padmé’s knuckles.

Padmé blushed despite herself and replied, “Senator Naal. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance again.”

Shryn lifted her head, the arc of her facial markings creasing as she smiled, delighted and mischievous. Always so eager, Shryn, and never one to hold onto a pretense for long.

“I’ve missed you, Padmé.”

Padmé’s only answer to that was to use their clasped hands to tug Shryn closer, to reach up and grasp Shryn’s shoulder, to pull her into a kiss.

It was always like this when they saw each other, and Padmé both loved and hated it: hidden and secret, moments stolen for themselves from their looming obligations. It electrified her, and it was never enough.

Shryn’s sharp teeth caught on Padmé’s lower lip as she shifted her head, and the pleasure-pain made Padmé gasp, mouth opening for Shryn to deepen the kiss. Togruta were predators, and it was hard to forget, sometimes.

Shryn’s large hands were on her, one at her hips, the other cupping her cheek and jaw. Padmé leaned into the engulfing warmth, breaking the kiss to tilt her head the other way.

“How was—”

“Ah, ah,” Shryn chided, breath hot on her face before she ducked closer to deposit a quick peck on Padmé's half-open mouth, “no politics, remember? I only have you here for so long.”

Padmé smiled ruefully, caught out. 

Shryn's solid weight leaned against her, and she backed up a step, then again and again until her back hit the wall, tilting her chin up to draw Shryn back into a kiss. It was hot and slick, burning through her. Padmé clutched at Shryn’s shoulder, leaned closer, brought her free hand up and around Shryn’s back and—hesitated. Lekku were sensitive, and Shryn didn’t always want hers touched.

Shryn broke the kiss.

“Yes,” she said, breathless. “You can.”

Padmé traced her fingers up the length of Shryn’s back, pressing closer as she did so, feeling the hard metal of her guard under the fabric of her cloak, until she reached Shryn’s bound lekku. As always, they were just slightly rough to the touch, catching on the pads of her fingers, and as she stroked up Shryn shuddered against her, gasping into her mouth.

Something hot and heady shot through Padmé as she stroked upward again and Shryn leaned her forehead against Padmé’s, her eyes squeezed shut, lips parted. Padmé wormed her fingers between Shryn’s lekku and her back, stroking her knuckles against the sensitive undersides. She stretched up and kissed Shryn again, pulling Shryn’s lower lip between her teeth and sucking on it in time with the motion of her fingers.

Shryn pressed harder against her, wedging one strong thigh between Padmé’s, giving her something to rub herself on as they continued to make out like horny teenagers with a curfew. Padmé ground herself down, the pressure sparking up through her. 

Her fingers faltered on Shryn’s lekku, and Shryn pressed the advantage, bringing her hands up to cup Padmé’s breasts, rubbing her nipples through the fabric of her dress. Padmé spared a prayer of thanks to the goddesses that she’d had the forethought _not_ to wear a breast band. It had felt almost dirty, at the time, but now— _oh._ She gasped into the kiss as Shryn pinched and rolled her nipples between her fingertips, using the dress's fabric to her advantage. 

Padmé arched into her touch, head falling back against the wall and Shryn leaned further down, sucking hard kisses down the length of her throat as her fingers worked over Padmé’s nipples, the combination of sensations enough to have her closing her eyes. She pushed herself into Shryn’s hands, her mouth, against her thigh—and it was too much and not enough all at once, teasing moans out of her as she chased something more concrete.

Finally, _finally_ Shryn took pity on her and dropped one one hand down to where their thighs met. Padmé shifted, spreading her legs to be more accommodating, and she waited to feel the feather light touch of Shryn teasing her once more.

It didn’t come.

She opened her eyes to find Shryn staring at her, amused.

“Over or under the dress?” she asked, and Padmé flushed hot all over at the thought of being here, where anyone _could_ find them, with her dress rucked up around her hips and the senator from Shili buried knuckles deep within her. 

“Under,” she said, gasping, and Shryn obliged, drawing away for just long enough that she could pull up Padmé’s skirts and drape them over her forearm, allowing herself the freedom of movement to reach between Padmé’s legs and rub circles over Padmé’s clit.

She bucked involuntarily, seeking out _more._ It wasn’t enough, just soft, tantalizing pressure over her underwear, and she bore her hips down. But Shryn only dipped her fingers lower, pressing against Padmé’s entrance, and now she could _feel_ how wet she was, the excess of it soaking into her underwear. She groaned as Shryn drew her fingers back up to press against her clit, hooking her fingers to find the hard bud hidden under the hood. 

Padmé _gasped._ Shryn sped up, rubbing harder and faster circles. After a moment longer she brought her arm up around Padmé’s back, bracing her in case her knees gave out.

She _ached_ as her orgasm built within her, but it still wasn't enough.

Padmé liked to be kissed. It was something she had known about herself since her first chaste fling as a girl in the Youth Legislature; it was also, undeniably, something that _Shryn_ knew. Shryn kissed her again, bearing down so that Padmé had no choice but to tilt her head back, bearing her throat as she drowned in the kiss. 

Faster circles, and harder, and they burned through Padmé mercilessly, just on this side of too hard. She was overwhelmed—the hard band of Shryn’s arm caging her in, the building tightness in the pit of her stomach, the searing, scalding kiss.

She bore down, changing the angle enough that—yes, _there._ Padmé panted, little sounds torn out of her as Shryn switched tactics, hitting _just_ the right spot. She was burning up, stomach and chest and throat and ears, until—

Heat ripped through her and she arched, shuddering, in Shryn’s hold. Shryn kept rubbing, smaller and softer circles, drawing it out until Padmé was a shaking mess in her arms, pushing weakly against her so that she’d give Padmé a second to _breathe._

It took a long moment for her to come back to herself, but when she did she found Shryn staring at her, a fond smile playing around the corners of her mouth. Padmé’s skirts were once more around her feet, though they were probably wrinkled to the point of no return. Oh well. 

Shryn was pliant against her, pleased for having pleased Padmé, about as off guard as Padmé could ever catch her in a moment like this.

She swung them around and Shryn let her, Shryn now backed up against the wall in her stead. Padmé sunk to her knees before her, eyes flitting up to look at Shryn through her lashes. She was small enough and Shryn tall enough that she was at the perfect height for this when kneeling.

Shryn’s plain jumpsuit wasn’t going to make this easy, but Padmé wasn’t a quitter.

Up close, there was a hidden seam that made it possible for one to relieve themselves without removing the entire jumpsuit, and Padmé took full advantage. She pulled apart the closed seam and pushed the fabric aside, leaning in to kiss the smooth skin of Shryn’s thigh over one of the white stripes that littered the length of her body. She received an appreciative hum in response that dropped lower as Padmé kissed along to the crease between thigh and hip. Padmé wrapped her left hand around Shryn’s right knee, to help her keep her balance.

Togruta were similar enough to humans, when one got down to the basics; they could thank their similar mammalian heritage to that little quirk, though it had taken her some time to adjust to the fact that they were _completely_ hairless. 

Padmé mouthed over Shryn's folds until she could slip a tongue between them, tasting the salty-sweetness as she licked up, finding the tightly packed tri-cluster of nerve bundles that made up the Togrutan version of a clitoris. She swirled her tongue around all three, listening to the little gasp Shryn made as she did so, and brought up her free hand to rub at Shryn’s entrance. She kept her tongue and her fingers light, teasing, waiting until Shryn had brought her hand up to hold the back of Padmé’s head and was making low sounds of annoyance, though she was careful never to _pull_ on Padmé’s hair.

Having had her fun, Padmé pressed one finger into her, palm down to the floor so she could hit Shryn’s sweet spot as she rocked her hand back and forth. There was a trick to making a clover figure with her tongue, in order to hit the hidden sides of all three nerve bundles in one motion, and Padmé made good use of her knowledge, swirling and sucking, until Shryn’s fingers tightened in her hair and she pulled Padmé away gently.

Padmé looked up and met Shryn’s hooded gaze, leaning to rest her cheek against Shryn’s striped thigh.

Fingers tapped the headpiece in her hair. “Did you really—”

“But of course,” Padmé said, mock outrage in her tone. “I am a _Senator._ We can be quite resourceful, you know.”

Shryn rolled her eyes but Padmé could see her fighting a smile, and she pulled her hands away to allow Padmé freedom of movement.

Togruta didn’t _need_ penetration to get off any more than humans did, but Shryn enjoyed it to the point that she said her orgasms were never as intense without it. Padmé was pretty good with her fingers, but she could never get them deep enough without a serious wrist ache by the time Shryn was satisfied.

Good thing Padmé had come prepared then.

She drew her fingers out of Shryn and surreptitiously wiped them on the inner thigh of her jumpsuit—no need to ruin her dress more than it already was—then brought both her hands up to her head. She pulled the hidden bead, letting her hair unravel down her back, using her free hand to pull the headpiece loose. No longer obscured by her hair, it was remarkably phallic shaped. 

Not the _best_ option perhaps, but the best one given the circumstances. 

Shryn’s gaze sparked as she took in the sight. But rather than saying anything, she reached down and gathered the thick weight of Padmé’s hair up in both hands, smoothing and twisting so that the mass of it could rest over Padmé’s shoulder and not be in the way.

It was a sweet gesture, and Padmé kissed her palm before Shryn managed to pull away entirely.

“You know I don’t mind,” she said, and waited until Shryn’s fingers were once more tangled in her hair, though Shryn was conscientious in her placement, close to the scalp as Padmé had taught her. 

Padmé took a brief second to check that the hairpiece was free of any wayward strands or other fibers, then brought it up to rub it against Shryn’s slit, making sure to hit her clit as she coated the piece in Shryn’s slick wetness, to make it easier to insert. 

Shryn moaned and rocked against it, bearing down until Padmé deemed the piece ready.

She used her free hand to part Shryn’s folds so she could slide the piece in, using it like one of the curved sex toys that Shryn preferred when they had enough time to themselves to actually find a bed. Shryn gasped and threw her head back hard enough that Padmé heard it smack against the wall. 

Grinning, Padmé dove back in, sealing her mouth around the three buds to suck, flicking her tongue as she rocked the hairpiece in and out. Shryn’s fingers tightened in her hair as she trembled and moaned. Padmé could feel the shake in Shryn’s thighs as they tightened around her head. 

Heat pooled in her lower stomach as she swirled her tongue, knowing that Shryn felt good and it was _her_ doing.

Then: fingers tightening on her hair to the point of pain, and a high, breathy gasp somewhere above her—and Shryn shuddered and shook apart above her. 

Padmé drew back slowly, wanting to look at her, bringing up her thumb instead to rub her through the aftershocks. Shryn’s face was slack and sweet with pleasure, and it was a long moment before she opened her eyes to laugh and glance down at Padmé. She took her hand away, slowly drawing out the hairpiece and setting it aside. She could deal with it later.

“Alright?” they both asked, and it made Padmé laugh as well. She leaned to press a kiss to Shryn’s hip, her thigh, her knee, until Shryn pushed her away and sunk to her knees mostly in Padmé’s lap.

Padmé nuzzled against Shryn’s cheek, placing kisses wherever she could reach. It was a bit of a stretch, long as Shryn was, but she managed it.

“We’ll have to go back soon,” Padmé said, and it was true, if only so they could be seen leaving through the official exits. There was work still to be done in the Naboo Royal Embassy before she was set to leave tomorrow afternoon, and Padmé had a long night ahead of her.

Shryn shushed her and said, “Stay with me. Just for a little longer.”

And really, how was Padmé to argue with that?


End file.
